A Lesson of Acceptance
by Niteflite
Summary: After X-treme Measures, the X-men are running low on hope for the human race, but one friend can change their minds. Ch 4 is up! Rogue and Kurt finally meet Millie! Yahoo!
1. Assignment

A/N: I don't own the X-Men or Orwell's 1984, but I do own Truman and his family. I felt that this needed to be written, because X-treme Measures made me want to find the good in humans once again. This story is dedicated to my little brother.  
  
A Lesson of Acceptance  
  
Rogue sighed. Yet another day in the prison called school. She had become used to the giggling and conversations that stopped as she entered a room, but her classes were the worst. The other students never took the desks near her, even if she sat in the middle of the classroom. She'd tried this today. There was at least one desk between he and the nearest person on any side. It was as if Rogue was encased in one of Jean's telekinetic bubbles.  
  
She wasn't exactly comfortable with people, true, but this was ridiculous.  
  
Rogue's musing continued aimlessly until she heard Mr. Bohn say "worth two hundred points." Her head snapped up, and she realized that there was a handout with different choices for a presentation on Orwell's 1984.  
  
"You will present this book with a partner. Since we have an even number in this class, there will be ONLY two people to a group." Mr. Bohn looked directly at Rogue. "I will assign partners if this proves to be too difficult for all of you. You may begin."  
  
There was a general scramble to get compatible partners. Rogue tuned it all out. She knew she'd end up doing the project alone again. Mr. Bohn didn't really enforce anything he said. A shadow fell over her desk. Probably no free desks now.  
  
"Ah'll move. Give me a sec." She began packing up her stuff.  
  
"It's okay, I'll sit in this desk." The guy's desk scraped across the floor, and Rogue paid no more attention until it bumped up against her own.  
  
"What th'?" She finally looked up to see who had the gall to talk to a mutant. Who she saw surprised her. That quiet kid who always sat in the back corner desk beamed at her. What was his name? Rogue didn't think that he had said two words all semester.  
  
"Hey. You looked like you needed a partner," he whispered. His voice seemed to be suffering from neglect. "I thought that since I don't have a partner, and you don't have a partner, we could fix that and be each other's partners."  
  
Well, that was definitely more than two words. "Uh, thank ya."  
  
"Truman."  
  
"What?"  
  
"My name. People normally don't know my name. It's Truman."  
  
Rogue shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Sorry. Mah name is-"  
  
"Rogue." Truman flipped through his book's pages. "I remember names well. Your name reminds me of 1984." Seeing her blank expression, he explained. "The characters Julia and Winston rebelled against the society. They became rogues." He shrugged. "Pretty dumb way to remember, huh?"  
  
"Nah. Ah just nevah though about mah name lahke that. Well, since we're partnahs, what project do ya want t' do?"  
  
"Well, I'd kinda like to perform this one." Truman pointed to the part of the handout that said, "Perform an important scene in the novel and explain why you chose it."  
  
"Sure Truman." She saw that he was once more flipping through the book. "What scene d'ya want ta do?"  
  
"I've always liked the scene where they were first given The Book. It has a kind of lost hope in it."  
  
Hope. Ororo was still searching for Evan, and his name echoed in the sewers every night. Evan had given up on hope, entrusting his life to the Morlocks.  
  
Truman looked up from his book. "You hate my idea, don't you?"  
  
Rogue shook her head. "Nah. Ah think it's a perfect theme. Hope is kinda thin around heah nowadays."  
  
Truman smiled ruefully. "Yeah, like I have no hope for my grade in this class. Hey, Rogue, I've got a video camera at home. Should we meet after school at your home to start practice?"  
  
Rogue considered this option for about two seconds. What with the students rebuilding the mansion, blue and fuzzy guys running around, and Berserker and Storm smelling like the sewers from searching for Evan, the Institute was not the most school-project-friendly place right now. "How 'bout yoah place? Our place ain't fixed yet."  
  
"Oh yeah, you live in that place on the news. Sure, my house is okay."  
  
"Ya sure?" Rogue asked. "Yoah parents ain't afraid o' mutants?"  
  
"Why should they be? Mutants haven't done anything to us."  
  
The bell rang and Truman collected his school stuff. "See you after school in front of this class, Rogue."  
  
**  
  
Truman: a faithful, or loyal, man (Old English) 


	2. Performing

AFTER SCHOOL:  
  
"Welcome to my humble home." The door swung open to admit Truman and Rogue. He slung his backpack off of his shoulder and dropped it unceremoniously on the floor. "Here, you can put your stuff here, and hang out on the couch. I'll get the video camera."  
  
Rogue perched uncomfortably on the edge of the couch's seat and looked about the room. Like any living room, there was a television set-up, a couch facing the TV, and framed photographs above the "entertainment center".  
  
Truman came clattering in from another room. His arms were filled with an old video camera and AC adapter. "Well, here it is. It's old, but it still works."  
  
Rogue picked up her copy of 1984 and read the scene they had decided to do. "Hey Truman, we might have a problem."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well, Ah can play Julia, an' ya can play Winston, but who is O'Brien?"  
  
Truman considered this, and right on cue, the front door opened. Truman turned to see who had come in. "Dad can play him!" He ran up to his father. "How was your day, Dad? Will you help us? It's for a school project."  
  
"Uh, sure. What do I do?"  
  
Truman handed him the book. "Will you please play O'Brien?"  
  
"Sure, Truman. Let me just put my stuff down, read my part, and sit for a couple of seconds."  
  
"Yeah, thanks Dad." Truman's father disappeared into one of the rooms. "Well, while we wait for Dad, we can practice. Where should we start the scene?"  
  
"From the part where O'Brien turns off th' telescreen?"  
  
" 'Kay, that works. And where do we end?"  
  
Rogue flipped through a bit. "This O'Brien talks a lot. How 'bout we skip over the part with th' food and move raht ta th' real conversation. We can end at th' part where O'Brien says 'Good, then that is settled'."  
  
Truman looked at his own book. "Yeah, that's a good place to stop. I didn't really like the manservant dude anyway." His father entered the living room. "Hey, Dad, you ready?"  
  
"Yes. Where do we start?"  
  
Rogue repeated her instructions and Truman's father made markings in his son's book. Truman set up the camera and they ran through the scene. None of them had made any mistakes, and the two students decided that the video only needed a bit of commentary to make it perfect.  
  
Truman took the camera off of the tripod. "Here, you do the commentary. You're much more comfortable in front of the camera anyways."  
  
"Okay." Rogue described the scene to the camera, and explained its significance in the novel. She used sweeping hand gestures, and became thoroughly engrossed with her interpretation.  
  
When she had finished, Truman turned off the camera. "Aaand, cut. You're really good at this. Why aren't you in the drama club or something?"  
  
Rogue waved a dismissive hand. "Ah don't think they accept mutants. Besahdes, been there, done that."  
  
Truman hooked the camera up to the VCR and pressed play. It showed the part where Rogue acting as Julia refused to be separated from Winston. "Unless being a good actress is part of your mutant powers, I don't see what's so wrong. I've never heard of the acting mutation." He began recording the short film onto a blank tape.  
  
"Yeah, well, tell that ta them." Rogue stood up from where she had been sitting and studied the photos above the television more closely. "Who's this?" She pointed at a wedding portrait.  
  
"Oh, that's my mom and dad when they got married."  
  
"And this?"  
  
"Heh. That's me as a baby. I was a cue ball."  
  
"No doubt." Rogue paused at another family picture. "Who's that?"  
  
Truman looked at the figure in the wheelchair. "That's my little sister. She was born disabled. I. I," he looked down at his feet, and then smiled sheepishly. "I never can exactly remember the scientific name for her condition, but she was born with too much brain fluid and took sick right after. It affected her developmentally."  
  
Rogue's eyes widened. She'd assumed Truman was the average Joe, playing soccer by day, attending Boy Scouts by night. Not someone who dealt with anything different. "Where is she?"  
  
Truman grinned. "Millie doesn't live here. We couldn't give her that twenty-four hour care. She lives in a sort of . residence with other kids."  
  
"Oh." Rogue sat down. "Is she.? Is Millie the reason you're not afraid?"  
  
"Of you? Well, yeah." Truman remained standing. "I just see it as the luck of the draw. I was given brown eyes, Millicent got hazel, and you got green. Just the same, you got superpowers, I didn't, and Millie got her wheelchair. I probably got the worst deal." He shrugged. "Brown eyes are boring."  
  
"Truman, Ah," she searched for the right words. "Ah'm sorry."  
  
"Why? 'Cause she's disabled? Don't be. I was only three when Millie was born, and I've grown up with her. Actually, I'm lucky. She taught me to accept others the way they are."  
  
"Really?" Rogue thought of her housemates. Kurt still wore his image inducer, and Evan had left the X-Men completely. Neither of them felt that they could be truly accepted, they were too fearful that they wouldn't be accepted any other way.  
  
"Yeah. You should see how people react when I'm out pushing her wheelchair. There are only two reactions. Either people can't take their eyes off of the wheelchair, or it's like we have an invisibility shield on and they can see right through us. Never in between." Rogue shifted uncomfortably. Ever since she had been branded a mutant, the same things had been happening to her.  
  
"There we go!" Truman pressed Eject on the VCR. "All done! Do you need a ride to your Institute?"  
  
Rogue shook her head. "Nah. It ain't that far away. See ya later, Truman." She picked up her things and headed to the front door.  
  
Truman ran to intercept her. "I just thought of something. Do you want to meet Millie? My family is going to visit her on Sunday. You can come along, too. I think she would do you some good."  
  
Rogue mentally checked her schedule. "Sure, Ah'm free on Sunday. Can Ah bring a friend?"  
  
Truman's expression became thoughtful. "Who?"  
  
"Kurt Wagner."  
  
He recognized the name. Obviously, he didn't think that the class clown really belonged. "Um, sure, if you really want him to. I suggest you warn him, though."  
  
"Yeah, okay. See ya Sunday. Ya know where th' Institute is, right?" He nodded, and she left the house.  
  
**  
  
A/N: There is no romance in this fic! Geez! It'd only take away from the whole point of the story. Sorry. If you want romance, go to my other fic. One more chapter on this one to go.  
  
Truman: a faithful, or loyal man (Old English) Millicent: (1) strength, (2) thousand saints 


	3. Invitation

A/N: Hey! Okay, I guess there are a few more chapters for now. You talked me into it. I also found out that there was too much information for one chapter. This chapter takes into account "The Toad, the Witch, and the Wardrobe". BTW, Kurt goes to church in my AU.  
  
**  
  
"Hey, Ah'm home!" Rogue pocketed her keys and dropped her satchel on the floor. Bobby raced by, waving at her with a diary in hand. With his other hand, he made an ice-slide for himself and used his momentum to speed past.  
  
"Bobby! I'm going to kill you!" Amara raced after Bobby and her diary, hair ablaze and ready to throw a fireball. Rogue stepped in Amara's path, and scowled. Magma skidded to a halt, ending an inch away from Rogue.  
  
"Ah'm not cleanin' this place up. If ya're smart, ya won't throw that." Rogue looked pointedly at the fireball still blazing in Amara's palm.  
  
"Oh. Oops?" Amara's hair became black again as she swallowed the flame back into her body. Forgetting why she had been so set on catching Bobby, she said, "You're back from doing the project with that guy? Who is he, anyway?"  
  
"His name's Truman. Just a normal guy, really." Rogue shrugged. "Have ya seen Kurt?"  
  
Amara nodded. "Yeah, he's around. This guy, he's not being your friend just for your powers, right?" She placed a hand on Bobby's ice-slide and melted it into a long puddle.  
  
Rogue crossed her arms. "He's not lahke that." At Amara's skeptical look, she said, "Honestly! He doesn't even know what mah powers are. He just knows what it's lahke ta be ignored."  
  
Amara placed her hands on her hips and adapted a haughty look. "Okay. Believe that. Kurt's probably in the kitchen."  
  
Rogue smirked. "An' Bobby's probably halfway through someone's diary."  
  
Amara growled and took off, following the puddle trail of Iceman. Rogue grimaced and made her way to the kitchen. The students here used their powers without thought, making their way easier whenever they could. Even more reason to not have let Truman visit. Let him become comfortable with one mutant at a time. She opened the kitchen door, and the blue, forked tail flicking from the refrigerator gave her a clue as to where Kurt had positioned himself.  
  
Rogue leaned against the doorjamb. "Ya gonna leave any food for me?" Kurt looked over the door of the fridge, an apple in his mouth. He registered who it was, and nodded vigorously. Rogue caught the orange he tossed her and sat at the table. "How's Amanda?"  
  
"How's zat lackey of Magneto's?" Kurt replied. He sat down opposite Rogue, and noticed her surprised expression. He held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, won't bring zat up. Amanda's fine." He looked down. "Can't say ze same for her house. Or her parents."  
  
"From what Ah hear, it wasn't th' most ideal meeting situation. Just give her time to talk them inta likin' ya." Rogue began peeling her orange. "Meantime, she's still yer girlfriend."  
  
"Ja, zat's true." Kurt finished his apple and moved on to a carton of ice cream. "Vant some?" he mumbled to Rogue. When she nodded, he said, "Get a spoon."  
  
Rogue rummaged through the utensil drawer and discovered a clean tablespoon. "Hey, Kurt, ya free on Sunday?"  
  
Kurt dug his spoon into the ice cream. "Ja, after church. Vhat have you got planned, Rogue?"  
  
"Ah'm goin' ta visit a little girl. Ah asked Truman if ya can come along."  
  
"You asked who? Vhy is zis little frauline so special?"  
  
"Millie doesn't fit th' definition of 'normal'. She's also Truman's little sistah."  
  
Kurt almost dropped his spoon. "Vhat do you mean, not normal? She's a mutant?" He jumped up. "Vhy didn't Cerebro find her?"  
  
"Whoa, Kurt!" Rogue tapped him on the hand with her spoon. "She ain't a mutant!"  
  
"No?"  
  
"Not a hint o' the X gene."  
  
Kurt sat down again. "Vhat's not normal, zen?"  
  
"The wheelchair. Severe disabilities. Take yer pick." Kurt's yellow eyes almost popped out of his head. "Truman invited me to meet her, and Ah invited ya. She doesn't look natural, sorta like ya, only she cain't hide behind a mask."  
  
"I'll come, Rogue."  
  
"Inducer?"  
  
"Ja. One zing at a time."  
  
**  
  
There we go! Please tell me if you'd like to see the car ride to the center, or if you'd like to go directly to finally meeting Millie. I am glad that you like this. If you don't, tough noogies. 


	4. Millie

Thank you, for all of your reviews. As it stands, the count is two for the car ride, and one for the actual visit. So, I decided to integrate them. I hope you like it, and I hope it didn't take too long to update.  
  
Disclaimer: Guess what? I own zilch. Nada. Absolutely nothing.  
  
~thought~  
  
emphasis  
  
SUNDAY:  
  
"You are sure he vill come?"  
  
"Sure, Kurt."  
  
"Vhen did he say he vill come?"  
  
"'Bout eleven. He said that he and his parents would pick us up after they go to church." Rogue checked her watch. "Anyway, it's only ten forty- five."  
  
Kurt shifted uncomfortably in his Sunday clothes. "Sorry Rogue. I'm just not used to going to ze early service at my church. It feels like much later."  
  
"Well, it's not." Rogue tucked a stray lock of white hair behind her ear. "Ya sure ya want ta go?"  
  
Kurt stopped fidgeting to look at his friend directly. Even though the image inducer was supposed to mask his appearance completely, Rogue could have sworn that she saw the glint of his yellow eyes. "In all seriousness, no. I don't vant to go. I have to." He peered intently at Rogue. She bit her lip and continued to play with the same lock of hair. "You're ze one who invited me. Are you having second thoughts, Rogue?"  
  
Rogue's glance darted around in order not to meet Kurt's eyes. "Well."  
  
A loud honk interrupted her mid-sentence. Both teens looked in the direction of the sound. Truman waved from the backseat of a station wagon as it pulled up in front of the gate. Kurt grinned self-consciously and gave a sort of half-wave back. "Who is this, again?" he asked Rogue through gritted teeth.  
  
Rogue glared at him. Was Kurt just fooling around, or did he honestly forget names so quickly? She held up the little pen-communicator thing to her mouth and said, "Professah? Truman's family is outside tha gate. We're leavin' now." She turned to Kurt. "Ya mind? Ah think they already know that ya're a mutant."  
  
Kurt put his hand to his forehead in exasperation. "Oh, ja! Just teleport in front of their faces! I have manners, you know! Have ze provessor open ze gate."  
  
**  
  
Truman sat contentedly in the backseat of his family's station wagon, watching the little argument between Rogue and Kurt. He opened his book, figuring that he'd be there a while.  
  
"Honey," Truman's mom asked him, "are they going to come out here anytime this week?"  
  
He turned the page of his book. "Yeah, mom. Just a few more minutes, okay? Then I'll go to the gate and yell."  
  
**  
  
"For just the two of us? C'mon, Kurt," she coaxed. "Please?" Finally, tired of the stalling, she said, "Fahne! Ah'll do it!" She started to take off her glove. Kurt saw this and quickly grabbed her shoulder, teleporting them behind the station wagon.  
  
"Happy?!" Kurt demanded. He then realized that three people in the station wagon had very much seen the teleportation. "Oh, scheiss."  
  
Truman hopped out of the car. Judging from the look on his face, he had gotten over his surprise. "Rogue! Great to see you could make it! And, Kurt, is it?" He held his hand out to Kurt, ready to shake hands. "Nice to meetcha."  
  
Kurt slowly reached for Truman's hand. Rogue began to panic a bit. Despite all her brave talk, she still didn't know how Truman might respond to Kurt's- ahem, condition. She balanced on her toes, ready to run interference. Just as the two boys were about to shake hands, Kurt broke off the handshake by reaching up to smooth his hair.  
  
Truman was left with his hand in mid-air, still trying to figure out what had happened.  
  
Kurt saw this, and quickly made amends. "Sorry. I don't know when to stop joking. Hit me vhen I annoy you, everyone else does." He rested his hand on Truman's shoulder, long enough to convey no hard feelings, but short enough that he didn't feel three fingers.  
  
Rogue didn't know she had been holding her breath until Truman said, "Nah, that's okay. I'll have to try that type of handshake sometime soon." He opened the car door. "You guys can get in. I'll sit in the jumper seat."  
  
Rogue released her breath and stepped into the car, sliding over so that Kurt could seat himself. She twisted around when the hatch was opened and Truman clambered in, seating himself in a backwards-facing seat. He leaned back so that his head was in between the other two. They both moved their heads a bit away, afraid of touching him on accident. "Um, Kurt? You know where we're going, right?"  
  
"Ja. A residence for disabled children." ~I hope that's right.~  
  
Truman shrugged. "Among others. It's kind of a permanent hospital. Millie and the other kids in the unit live in a homey ICU, I guess."  
  
"Ya guess?" Rogue asked. ~Gee, this is reassuring.~  
  
Truman's dad looked back at the mutants from the passenger seat. "Millie was born when he was three. He's grown up with the kids, and we visit at least every other day. Truman's pretty much got the concept."  
  
Kurt turned towards Rogue, and she would have given anything for Jean's power, just to know what he felt about this somewhat sketchy description. Kurt must have been able to understand her look, and shrugged, grinning sheepishly.  
  
"So," Truman's mom suggested, "Should we turn on the radio?" When all three kids nodded, she turned the dial to an oldies station, and "Yesterday" began halfway through. Rogue's lip curled slightly in disgust, but she didn't think the rest of the car would appreciate the grating music she preferred.  
  
"Iiiee zaaaid somezing wrong, now I long for yesterdaaaa-aa-aa-ay." Kurt's accented voice warbled along with the music. Rogue settled back in her seat, getting ready for the upcoming visit.  
  
**  
  
They had parked, and the two mutant teens stood staring at the building. They were entering from the back, but the ambiance still screamed, "HOSPITAL!" Truman jogged forward, and turned back to face them.  
  
"Race you to the stairs!" he shouted, and took off running towards the building.  
  
"Where're those?" Rogue muttered to Kurt, who shrugged.  
  
"I don't know, but I'm going to find out!" he replied, sprinting off. Midway through one of his strides, he ported in front of Truman. Rogue shook her head at the laughter that emanated from the two boys and jogged behind them.  
  
Truman paused a bit before going through the slow sliding glass doors. Kurt bamfed next to him and, once he had seen the hallway inside, teleported himself a good meter in. This demented form of racing continued until Truman swerved left into a door halfway down the hall. His outstretched hands thudded against the door, and opened it to reveal the stairwell.  
  
"The unit's on the second floor," he panted, before racing up the stairs, taking two or three at a time. A faint bamf told him that Kurt had already made his own way up the stairs.  
  
Rogue trotted up the stairs, not quite at the breakneck pace the guys were setting, but it got her to the top of the stairs before the door slammed on her. She ran out the door into a hall very similar to the one she had just left. Truman was shouting directions a few steps before each turn.  
  
"Right!" He and Kurt swerved right, their bodies forty-five degrees from the floor. Kurt had given up porting for the home stretch in case someone caught them running. Rogue used the time they wasted skidding to catch up.  
  
"Left! Straight ahead!" Rogue was now even with the two guys, all of them sprinting for the last few yards. Truman and Kurt began falling behind, their energy depleted from the sprinting done earlier. Rogue pulled ahead, utilizing her spare reserves. However, those weren't enough.  
  
Bamf! Kurt reappeared directly in front of the target door.  
  
"Cheatah!" Rogue slowed down, panting a bit.  
  
"Ja? Tell me you vouldn't do ze same."  
  
"Only if Ah could. An' then, yah'd be passed out." She walked to the door, a few paces ahead of Truman.  
  
He smiled, and commented, "I guess they changed the decorations." He pointed at the holiday cutout on the door. He grunted slightly as he opened it. Suddenly, he appeared to gain more strength.  
  
Truman ran into the room and made a beeline to one of the girls. Rogue headed to the doorway after him, and froze in her tracks. She couldn't have been prepared for the smell of medicine and the sight of about ten kids in wheelchairs.  
  
Kurt stepped up next to her, took a deep breath, and walked past her. He maneuvered his way through the wheelchairs, carefully looking at each child's face before heading to where Truman was. Kurt's expression softened as he looked at how Truman was bugging Millie. Kurt turned and waved Rogue over.  
  
~One foot in front o' th' othah. Don't be afraid.~ Rogue picked her way past the children, averting her face. One boy lifted his head up and made a wordless sound at her passing.  
  
Kurt placed his disguised hand on Millie's sweet face. Impulsively, he quoted, "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled." He rubbed his furry nose against Millie's cheek. She smiled and giggled.  
  
A/N: Well, this fic will continue, but probably at the same speed I'm doing it now. It has become doubly important to me now, because with the Governor cutting costs in our state and such, my brother's home is going to be closed in about two years. By the way, if you can't tell, my brother is in the same situation as Millie.  
  
Thank you to all of you who reviewed favorably. This story has received my most reviews. I'll write more soon. 


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